


If At First You Don't Succeed

by Applesandbannas747



Category: Fence (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-05 22:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17927216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applesandbannas747/pseuds/Applesandbannas747
Summary: You would think that after months of living with someone, you'd be able to recognize them pretty easily. You'd be wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

Nick was beginning to regret coming out today. He was home for spring recess since the dorms at Kings Row were closed during the break. If he’d had a choice, he suspected he would have stayed at school. It wasn’t that he didn’t miss home, it was just that he felt more like he  _belonged_  when he was at Kings Row. When he was with the other members of the fencing team. Even when he was with his obnoxious roommate. Still, he had to admit that it was nice to see his mom again, and Coach Joe. He’d been happy to hang out with his old friend, Greg, too. Sure, Greg wasn’t into fencing, but there was still a lot they’d needed to catch up on. All the latest gossip from Nick’s previous social circles, which Greg was happy to supply, and all the drama from Kings Row, which Greg seemed just as interested in. Nick had hung out with Greg almost every day since coming home, and on this particular day, over halfway through break, Greg had decided they should go visit a boardwalk.

“They’re always fun,” he’d told Nick. Nick had disagreed. They were tourist hot spots and rarely had anything fun to do besides…walk the board. “Or run it!” Greg had said. In the end, Nick had relented. Because, really, what else was there to do? Now, however, Nick knew that anything would probably have been better than this. It was hot and the place was crawling with couples and families, strolling up and down, looking out over the beach. And Nick had quickly become grumpy because he’d forgotten to pack a lunch. And the only vendor they’d been able to find without backtracking only had egg salad sandwiches. Nick may have been hungry enough to eat the sad sandwich, but he didn’t have to be happy about it.

“It’s not so bad,” Greg said, dubiously examining his own sandwich.

“Remind me never to let you pick where we go ever again,” was all Nick said in response.

“There’s always something good to look at around here, even if the food is…” Greg shrugged, readjusting his purple beanie.

“You’re kidding me,” Nick said flatly. “You dragged me here because you wanted to find a hookup?” Greg only shrugged again, taking a bite of his lunch. Nick huffed in annoyance but did the same.

The familiar squalling of gulls suddenly shifted from background noise into a more immediate situation. Nick saw the flapping of grey and white wings, heard a squawk right in his ear, then a flash of orange and—

“Hey,” he shouted, “give that back!” But the bird was already gone, lackluster sandwich clutched in its beak. Both he and Greg stared after the seagull in shock for a moment until Greg broke the stunned silence with an outburst of laughter.

“Shut up,” Nick fumed. “It’s not funny.” Greg laughed harder. “It’s not! That asshole bird just took my food!”

“Whatever, man, you didn’t like it anyway.”

“Yeah, but it was mine,” Nick fully regretted coming out today now.

“Okay, okay,” Greg reined in his laughter. “Let’s walk back, then.” Greg turned and after another moment spent glaring after the seagull, Nick followed. It was a couple minutes before Greg spoke as they meandered down the boardwalk. “How ‘bout this? I’ll wingman for you today. Since a seagull stole your lunch and all, you deserve some new digits more than I do.”

“I don’t need a wingman,” Nick grumbled. “I’m not even looking—,” but something caught his eye. He slowed to a stop. There, on the other side of the wide boardwalk, was someone worth looking at, despite Nick’s insistence that he wasn’t looking for anyone or anything. Greg smirked, following Nick’s eye.

“He’s not your usual type,” Greg observed. “But go off, I guess.” Nick didn’t even dignify the comment with a response.

The boy that he’d stopped to stare at was tall and well built, not scrawny but not bulked up, either. He leaned against the railing, looking out over the water, black hair blowing lightly in the soft sea breeze. Nick couldn’t see the guy’s face, but that didn’t stop him from being instantly attracted to the stranger.

“I still don’t need a wingman,” Nick said, sensing Greg getting ready to go do  _something_. Greg grumbled but settled back down next to Nick.

“You  _are_  going to go talk to him, aren’t you?” Greg asked. “I haven’t seen you look at someone like that for ages. You’re practically drooling.”

“Shut it,” Nick told him, but didn’t take his eyes away from the beautiful boy. “How is he not dying in that sweater?” Nick asked, though he couldn’t deny how good it looked, despite its impracticality. Navy blue and white striped. He wore simple black jeans with it, and they fit him dangerously well. It took a bit of effort for Nick to pull his eyes away from that particular view.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t look too thick. Just because you overheat so easily doesn’t mean the rest of us do.” Nick grunted, already disinterested in this conversation.

“I’m gonna talk to him,” Nick decided. “How do I look?” Greg let out a huff.

“I don’t know. Fine? Just go. Give me a signal if I should leave without you.”

Nick grinned over his shoulder, already on his way to the stranger. He smoothly slid into place by the other boy, mimicking his posture against the rail.

“Hey,” Nick said casually, feigning interest in the ocean. “You really caught my eye,” he turned then, suave and confident. “I’m Nick.” The stranger had also turned, and Nick’s mind only had time to register that, yes, this boy was as painfully beautiful as he’d anticipated before he spoke.

“Yeah, I know…?”

“Seiji?” Nick said, horrified by this new development. “Shit, I take it back.”

“What?” Seiji asked with an arched eyebrow. “Your introduction? It’s a couple months too late for that, don’t you think?” Nick could just punch him. Then he caught Greg’s questioning expression from the corner of his eye. He sighed.

“Come here,” he said loudly, gesturing Greg over. Greg looked completely baffled, but came nonetheless. “It’s a bust,” Nick explained, too irritated to be embarrassed by the blunder. He jabbed a thumb at Seiji, “this is Seiji,” he explained dispassionately.

“What—your prissy roommate?” Greg asked with astonishment.

“The one and only,” Nick confirmed.

“Not that this hasn’t been delightful,” Seiji said dryly. “But I think I’ll be leaving now.”

“Yeah, sure,” Nick waved him off without a care. Greg looked between Nick and Seiji, who had already turned and stalked off, with wide eyes. Soon his face transformed from shock to mirth.

“Oh, man,” he wheezed. “You just hit on that roommate you can’t stand!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nick grumbled. “Hilarious.” But, by the time he’d made it back home, it  _was_  starting to seem pretty hilarious.


	2. Chapter 2

Nick was glad to be back at Kings Row. He’d missed it as much as he’d missed his home, and he’d only been gone a week. As he got to unpacking his small duffle, he noticed that Seiji’s things were all back and in place. Nick snorted a laugh, remembering that day on the boardwalk. Even the seagull seemed funny now.

It was with a good mood that Nick ventured out into the rest of the school, intending to find Bobby or Eugene. It was only mid-afternoon and classes didn’t start until tomorrow, leaving him and the rest of the students with a handful of sunny hours to fill. Nick was sure he’d find the guys outside, somewhere on the grassy school campus, lapping up the spring sun. But he found Seiji, albeit accidentally, before running into anyone else, and his good mood took him over to the bench Seiji was sitting on. When Nick sat down with a prominent  _thwump_ , Seiji glanced up from his book, already looking annoyed at the interruption.

“Hey man,” Nick said, smile broad with good humor. “I’m sorry I tried hitting on you last week. Trust me, it was as traumatic for me as it was for you.”

“How,” Seiji asked slowly, like he was talking to a complete moron, “exactly did you not manage to realize who you were talking to?”

“I don’t know,” Nick shrugged.

“Is your eyesight that terrible, or is it your brain that’s the issue?”

“Whoops,” Nick said, still grinning, “Sorry I wasn’t able to recognize you from your ass.”

“That’s not what—I wasn’t implying that—,”

“But, you know, I probably could  _now_.” Nick winked at Seiji, who had become extremely flustered by the turn in conversation. Nick just laughed, getting to his feet and, once again, going off in search of his friends.

He found the rest of the fencing team, plus Bobby, Tanner, and Kally on the grass, as he’d known they would be, not too far from Seiji’s bench. After catching up with them all, Nick dove into a dramatic retelling of his boardwalk adventure. The guys all found it hysterical. Nick snuck a glance in Seiji’s direction, wondering if he could overhear them. After all, they weren’t exactly being quiet. Judging by the way his ears were burning red, Nick decided that, probably, he could.

It just made him laugh all the louder. Annoying Seiji had always given Nick a good amount of joy. Teasing him a little was shaping up to be even more fun.

***

Nick got nothing but disgruntled looks and glares from Seiji for the next couple of days. This was exacerbated by Nick catching Seiji’s eye and giving him a wink, or, on occasion, pretending to be checking out his butt. And, sometimes,  _actually_ checking out his butt. Seiji did not find this nearly as funny as Nick did.

But as the days kept on, Nick was given reason to worry. Because it happened again, in a way. He was on his way to sit with his team, food in hand, when he spotted an attractive guy sitting alone and, on a whim, made a beeline for him instead.

“This seat taken?” Nick asked, sitting down before an answer was issued. It was late enough in the lunch period for Nick to be confident that the seat was, in fact, available. He was about to turn up his charm when his eyes focused on the guy he’d planned to use said charm on. “Oh,” he said flatly. “It’s you.”

“Hilarious reenactment,” Seiji informed him coolly.

“Yeah,” Nick laughed, grabbing on to this lifeline. “I’m a comedic genius.”

“Indeed. You should pursue that talent and give up on fencing. Being a clown suits you better.”

“False fact,” Nick said, mock-offended. He might have been real-offended, if not for the nagging feeling in his brain that it was weird to try for the same guy twice without meaning to. It wasn’t his fault, though. Seiji was just too pretty. And talented. Shame about his personality, though.

“You’ve had your fun,” Seiji said, pushing Nick’s lunch tray into his hands. “You can leave now.”

“You want me to stay that bad, huh?”

“No, I want you to  _leave_.”

“You should really know better by now, Seiji. Shouldn’t have told me to go if you wanted me to leave you alone.”

“Direct statement of what you want is the best way to get it,” Seiji said, matter of fact. “Telling someone to leave has always yielded the desired result.”

“I bet they never come back, either.”

“The desired result,” Seiji repeated.

“You’re wrong, by the way. Being direct is only sometimes the way to getting what you want. Sometimes, you gotta be sneaky.”

“Why won’t you leave?”

“It’ll bother you more if I stay,” Nick said, biting into his apple with a defiant  _crunch!_

“Don’t you want to go sit with the whole gang?” Seiji insisted, nose wrinkling as he was sprayed with juice when Nick took another bite of his apple. Nick looked over at his usual table and shrugged.

“I can survive a day away from them. Hey, why don’t you ever come eat with us all, anyway?”

“You’re all loud and obnoxious. I’m not sure how Harvard puts up with it.”

“Because,” Nick explained in a conspiratorial whisper, “he can be loud and obnoxious too, just in a more subtle way.”

“Subtly loud and obnoxious?” Seiji sneered. “You give me a headache.”

“That’s why I graced you with my company,” Nick told him. Seiji gave up on the conversation with an irritated huff and tried to get back to his lunch. Nick didn’t make it that easy; he made sure to keep up a stream of conversation the whole time. Seiji left the table at the end of lunch looking ready to break something, and Nick left feeling entirely content. The original reason for sitting with Seiji was more or less forgotten in Nick’s mind, replaced by the fun time he’d had harassing Seiji instead.

***

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Nick sighed, glowering at Seiji’s profile as if the boy had intentionally done this.

“Language, Mr. Cox,” his history teacher warned him. Nick glanced over at Mr. Galbraith with a guilty smile, but the teacher just waved him off.

“What are the odds,” Seiji said, scowling, “that out of everyone in the class, I got paired with you?”

“You think I’m any happier about this?” Nick asked through clenched teeth, but he kept his voice down. He didn’t need Kenneth overhearing and asking questions. Questions like  _why aren’t you happy? You begged me to trade cards with you!_ Nick frowned. He hadn’t  _begged_ , exactly. But he  _had_  been persistent.

Mr. Galbraith was big into group projects but, unlike the other, more merciful teachers, he didn’t believe in free will. He’d had them all draw cards with a symbol on it, and partnerships were to be formed between the people with matching cards.

Nick hadn’t been paying attention until someone had commented that their symbol looked like a dick. Nick had, understandably, wanted to get a look at it and see for himself if the shape were properly phallic. But as he’d looked up, he’d accidentally caught sight of a really nice looking hand going into the stupid top hat Mr. Galbraith was bringing around. Nick wasn’t usually a hand person. They were nice and all, but they didn’t make the list for things he actively checked out in a person. But this boy’s hand was pale and graceful with long fingers and neat nails. It looked, Nick thought, like a hand that would feel nice in his own.

Then, he’d caught a glimpse of the card that hand pulled out. A heart. He’d known then, of course, that he needed to get a heart at any cost. But when the hat made it to him, he pulled out a shamrock instead. He’d been sulking at his loss when, like a blessing from god, he’d seen Kenneth, the boy right next to him, pull out the very card he’d needed.

And now, thanks to his own poor decisions and terrible observational skills, he was stuck paired with Seiji. And, to make it worse, Kenneth got one of those guys that always did the whole project and told you not to touch it. He could have gotten an easy A. But no. He got an angry control freak that, Nick was certain, would make him do his fair share of the work but would nitpick it the entire time.

Nick glanced down at Seiji’s hands, the very things that had gotten him into this mess. They looked exactly the same, but knowing they were Seiji’s made him lose all interest in them, no matter how nice to hold they might be.

***

“Nicholas,” Seiji said in a long suffering way, with tired eyes and a sense of having given up on the world. Or, at the least, on Nicholas Cox. Nick looked up almost as wearily from his own computer, open to the google slides they were working on. “Do you want to explain to me how, in your mind, ‘Andrew Jackson: Bad Man’ is an acceptable slide?”

“Am I wrong?” Nick asked.

“There’s nothing else on here!”

“Hold on, I’ll fix that right now,” Nick scrolled to the page in question and typed a new bullet-point under  _Bad Man._

“That’s not  _fixing_  it,” Seiji said, fuming.

“Galbraith’s chill, he’ll get it.”

“You’re not taking this assignment seriously.”

“It’s a power point presentation, Seiji, worth, what, twenty points? Why would I put maximum effort into it? As long as we hit all the big stuff leading up to The Trail of Tears, we’ll get full credit.”

“Andrew Jackson: Bad Man, Became President in 1828, is  _not_  sufficient in explaining his contribution.”

“We already have a slide about the Indian Removal Act. I’ll just use this slide as a little introduction to that one. I’ll mention some of the other racist shit Jackson did, too.”

“Can’t you just write it?”

“No. Power points are guides Seiji, no one wants to read a whole essay every slide.”

“You could summarize. Right now it seems like we have a slide for the sole purpose of calling former president Andrew Jackson a bad man.”

“I like it. I think he deserves a callout post.”

Seiji’s face was boiling red, but not with any sort of embarrassment, Nick was sure. He was about to explode with rage. Nick wasn’t making this group project any easier for him than he’d made lunch the week before.

“Fine,” Seiji started typing with angry precision. “I refuse to do your portion of the work.”

“I wasn’t asking you to.”

“But I will be telling Mr. Galbraith who was responsible for which slides.”

“Tattletale. And go for it. He won’t care.” Nick was exhausted with the project, not because it was hard, but because Seiji was making it tedious. They’d only been assigned it yesterday, and Seiji had insisted they work on it both last night and tonight. It wasn’t due for a week.  _And_ , just as Nick had assumed, Seiji was ruthless about the particulars—the formatting, the font, the wording of the sentences, everything. Nick had retaliated by being an uncooperative pain in the ass. Neither of them was happy, but Nick was probably more amused than Seiji.

Sneaking a glance at Seiji, still aggressively tapping away at his keyboard, Nick opened Facebook and started scrolling. He needed a brain break, something he was sure Seiji would disapprove of. Out of habit—one he kept meaning to break—he clicked through to Jesse Coste’s page. He’d found it two years ago, when looking up stuff on his dad. He didn’t know why he kept coming back. Looking through Jesse’s posts and pictures—which the moron kept on public access for any random person to see—made Nick feel nothing but bad things. Anger, jealousy, a deep and aching melancholy, and, in his worst moments, an intense hatred for this perfect boy in his perfect life.

And yet, he came back. Again and again. Jesse rarely posted himself, though when he did the post was thought provoking and meaningful, or perfectly hilarious and charming. Despite the rarity with which Jesse posted, his timeline was always filled with tagged photos or funny stories he’d been involved in. There was a new batch of pictures since the last time Nick had given in and checked. He pulled up the album and clicked through.

The photos were posted by a woman that could only be Jesse’s mom. She’d captioned the photos with  _“Was looking through my old phone and couldn’t resist sharing these gems!”_  Nick rolled his eyes. Of course Jesse’s mom would be camera-happy. There were five photos, all taken at a fancy salle Nick didn’t recognize. Jesse looked to be no more than a year younger in the photos, smiling rakishly for the camera, mask tucked under his arm. They all looked about the same, though there was one that grabbed his attention.

In the fourth picture, Jesse’s arm was flung over a boy’s shoulders, only the other boy was barely in the frame at all. What could be seen of him was dark, thick hair, perfect, smooth skin, and a long neck, twisted away from Jesse, as if intentionally hiding from the lens. And, under the single visible stunning and dark eye, there was a mole. Nick slammed his computer shut with horror.

“Not again,” he groaned. Seiji looked up at him with a sneer, and Nick’s eyes fixated on the mole beneath one of those smoldering eyes. That mole was like an accusation, and Nick turned away fast.

“What are you going on about now?” Seiji asked, which Nick found to be totally unfair; it was  _Seiji_  who kept going on about things.

“Don’t worry about it,” Nick mumbled, eyeing his computer and debating whether to open it.

“Just work on the assignment, won’t you?”

“It’s pretty much done.”

“Pretty much and done aren’t the same thing.”

“Fine,” Nick sighed, braving his open laptop instead of Seiji’s ire. He closed his Facebook tab swiftly, but as he did, he noticed something pretty big that he’d somehow missed when first looking at the photo on the screen. If Seiji were the pretty boy in the picture, then that meant it was  _his_  shoulders that Jesse had his arm so brazenly around. It made him wonder…

“You haven’t done a single thing in almost twenty minutes,” Seiji informed him.

“Prove it,” Nick challenged, mostly out of habit. Seiji spun his own computer around so that it faced Nick. Nick got up from his slouched posture on his bed and crawled over to get a better look at Seiji’s computer, on their shared desk.

“You dramatic fucking hoe,” Nick said, barking a laugh. “You pulled the receipts on me!” Seiji had up the  _versions history_ on their presentation, showing that the last version Nick’s red dot had participated in was indeed just about twenty minutes ago. Seiji was burning scarlet, but Nick was just laughing harder.

“ _What_ did you just call me?” Seiji demanded, making the laughter worse.

“You—heard—me—,” Nick wheezed. Seiji had taken being called a  _dramatic fucking hoe_ personally, it seemed, which was hysterical to Nick since he hadn’t meant it personally—or even as an insult. It was just one of those things you said to convey a  _mood_. He’d called Bobby the same thing about a million times, usually with the utmost affection. But Seiji—man, he looked ready to start a brawl.

“If you  _ever_  call me that again,” Seiji growled, but the threat was left unfinished.

“I’ll try to remember that,” Nick said, finally recovering from his fit. “You’re just too easy to harass, I do it without even trying.”

“I don’t believe you,” Seiji’s frown was deep and his eyebrows set low in irritation, but he seemed slightly placated by the cease in laughter.

“Whatever. Anyway, I don’t think you’re a hoe, if that’s what you’re mad about. Not that there’s anything wrong with hoeing around. I mean, hey, whatever makes you happy, right? But you’re like…the antithesis of a hoe.”

“Impressive vocabulary for a troglodyte.”

“Impressive vocabulary for a stick in the mud,” Nick shot back.

“Just get to work.”

“Sure, alright.” And Nick actually did get back to work. Pretty much done turned to entirely done within the hour, and Nick snapped his computer shut with a victorious  _ha!_  He stretched, cracking his back—he did his best work slumped almost entirely horizontal in bed, computer propped on stomach and hands reaching the keyboard like little t-rex arms. It was murder on his back.

“You really didn’t change the Andrew Jackson slide?” Seiji asked, going over the presentation one last time. Typical.

“No. I said I’ve got it under control, and I do.”

“I should change it.”

“Don’t bother. It’s fine.”

“I doubt that.”

“Hey, wanna make a bet?”

“A bet?” Seiji raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. If we get full marks on the presentation, Andrew Jackson slide left as is, then I win. If we get anything less than full marks, you win.”

“And what are we betting with?”

“Secrets, of course.” Nick winked, and Seiji rolled his eyes.

“What are we, in the 2nd grade?”

“If you win,” Nick said leaning in close and lowering his voice, in true 2nd grade style, “I’ll tell you my relationship to Jesse Coste.” An edited version, to be sure, but Seiji couldn’t detect the deception. He was listening, fully interested now.

“And if you win?” Seiji asked cautiously, and Nick was tempted to blow the deal with some sort of dirty joke. He could tell that Seiji expected him to do just that. But he managed to withstand the impulse. There was something he wanted more.

“Then you tell me what  _your_  relationship with Jesse Coste is.” Nick watched Seiji’s eyes widen in surprise at the request. He seemed to weigh his options. In the end, his curiosity got the best of him, too.

“Deal.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Grades are in,” Nick announced the very evening after their pair presentation.

“And?” Seiji asked, and Nick first thought that he’d forgotten their deal. Then he realized that Seiji was asking for their score.

“I didn’t look yet,” Nick said.

“Why not? If you saw that we were graded, why didn’t you just check it?”

“Well,” Nick explained patiently, “since there’s a lot riding on this grade, I thought I’d wait for you.”

“A useless gesture,” Seiji rounded the duck curtain, appearing in Nick’s view. “Shall I come sit on the bed then, so we can look together?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Nick said, ignoring the sarcasm, grabbing Seiji’s wrist and tugging him down on his bed. Seiji snatched his hand back and gave Nick a withering glare. Nick ignored this, too, and clicked through to their project grade. “Ha! I told you,” Nick gloated, stabbing a finger at the  _25/25_  on the screen.

“You were nothing close to articulate during the presentation,” Seiji said, knocking Nick’s hand out of the way to navigate over to the rubric. “I was sure we’d be docked on that.” But the rubric showed full points on everything, with no comments at all. Galbraith was a fast grader for exactly this reason.

“So, are you happy with the grade or not?”

“I’m not unhappy,” Seiji said, still frowning at the computer.

“Good enough.” Nick smiled, closing his computer and setting it aside. “Now tell me. You and Jesse. What’s going on there?”

Seiji turned his frowning face on Nick now that the computer was out of sight. “Nothing is  _going on_  between me and Jesse.”

“You made a deal, Seiji, so now you’ve got to tell me,” Nick reminded him.

“There simply isn’t anything to tell.”

“Bullshit. I know you know him.”

“Fine, then. But there  _isn’t_  anything. He’s just,” Seiji sighed, then searched for words, “Jesse’s just…he’s like you.”

“What?” Nick asked, a white shock of adrenaline and alarm shooting through his body. Being called on fencing like Jesse was bad enough, but this was worse. If Seiji looked close, would he be able to see the truth?

“Yes,” Seiji looked at Nick thoughtfully. “A lot like you. We fenced together, as children. That’s how we met. He’s always been irritatingly optimistic and overly friendly. We’re not friends, but I think we used to be.”

“You  _think?”_  Nick asked. “You don’t know?”

“Like it’s really so strange,” Seiji snapped, obviously defensive. “You’ve said  _we’re_  friends before, but I’m almost positive we aren’t. It’s like that.  _He’s_  like  _you_. Confusing and dumb and much too physical with people you’re supposed to dislike.”

“I don’t dislike you.”

“He says that too.”

“But I—wait,” Nick frowned. “You’ve asked?”

“What?”

“Did you ask Jesse if he likes you?” Nick insisted, more interested than he had any right to be.

“Don’t be absurd,” Seiji sneered. “I didn’t think he and I should be friends, and I told him as much. Rivals should dislike each other.”

“You dislike him?”

“I do,” Seiji said, then sighed. “Jesse, as I’ve said, is like you. You only say the things you do to agitate me, in order to compensate for being unable to beat me, I assume. And Jesse just needs the entire world to like him and it infuriated him that I was indifferent towards him, entirely unswayed by his charm and charisma. It’s why he insisted we were friends for so long.”

“You’re kind of a jerk, aren’t you?” Nick snorted. “Kicked Jesse out of your life the minute he proved he was better than you, even though he’s probably the only friend you’ve ever had. If you don’t count me, and I know you don’t.”

“I don’t count either of you,” Seiji stood. “The both of you never actually liked me,” he went red, then, and hurried to explain, which was unusual of Seiji. “That suits me best, of course, since I don’t particularly care for either you or Jesse. But my point is, neither of you say the things you do or claim to be friends with me out of any desire to actually  _be_  friends. Now, I believe that fulfills the terms of our agreement.”

Nick stared at the space Seiji had occupied long after he had gone. He felt like he’d gotten a look into Seiji’s mind today. Nick wasn’t sure how Jesse felt about Seiji—if he really were a dickhead who needed validation from everyone or if he had actually cared about Seiji, but it was almost sad, Nick thought, how Seiji perceived their relationship. He wondered if that’s why Seiji interacted with everyone the way he did; he seemed pretty convinced that people didn’t like him, that they  _couldn’t_  like him. Nick thought of how he’d blushed after declaring that Jesse and Nick didn’t like him. The way he’d rushed to assure Nick that he liked it best that way. It all pointed to a very different conclusion than the one Seiji had insisted on. It made Nick want to prove him wrong.

Nick jerked back to reality, turning away from the spot Seiji had been in long minutes ago.  _Prove him wrong?_  Nick almost snorted again. That wasn’t his job. That was for someone who actually  _did_  like Seiji. And Nick was pretty sure he didn’t qualify for the position.

***

As fun as making Seiji blush was, Nick’s conscience soon got the better of him, and he gave it a rest. He kept thinking of his conversation with Seiji about Jesse, of Seiji’s accusation that Nick liked to tease him because he couldn’t beat him. It sapped the fun away from it, tainting the pleasure he felt when Seiji grew flustered with guilt and anger at himself—was he really so petty that he’d pick on Seiji instead of working on beating him at fencing fair and square? So, he stopped. Mostly. Seiji still gave him a weary look every time he entered the room, and, sometimes, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to rise to Seiji’s expectations, but mostly Nick just smiled and waved.

And so, life went on as usual, Nick’s teasing sliding back into heckling, and there hadn’t been another mix up on whether Seiji were his prissy roommate or an attractive stranger in almost three weeks. He’d managed to move on from it all with good humor, though he didn’t tell Bobby, Eugene, or the rest of the guys about his subsequent efforts to (unwittingly) hit on their star fencer. Despite all this, two weeks to the day after The Jesse Talk, Nick was confronted with an alarming possibility.

He’d gone to the library between school and fencing and again was stopped dead in his tracks by a beautiful boy. Proud shoulders and black hair. Impeccably worn clothing. Elegant neck. A long fingered, graceful hand holding open a book. Same exact type as the guy Nick had gone for at the boardwalk, in the lunch room, during class, and even in a shitty picture. It was then that Nick knew he was in trouble.

He marched right up to the table the boy was sitting at and fell heavily into the chair next to him. Seiji looked up from his book with mild alarm. This time, Nick wasn’t surprised to see the familiar face of his roommate on the body of the boy he’d had an immediate attraction to. Furrowing his brow, Seiji scanned Nick up and down, like he expected Nick to pull out an épée right then and there to challenge him to a duel. In a minute, Seiji may well wish Nick had done just that.

“So,” Nick said, all casual. “We have a problem.”

“And that is?” Seiji asked, resigned to his fate; he obviously knew better by now than to think Nick would leave him alone before saying his bit.

“I think I might actually like you.” Nick told him, point blank. Seiji blinked, once, twice.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not any happier about it than you are, but here we are.”

“Nicholas,” Seiji said, which was, Nick had found, a clear indication that he was feeling superior. “I realize that you find it hilarious to taunt me, but isn’t this taking the joke a little too far?” He said it evenly, dispassionately. But Nick could detect a flash of anger in his dark eyes.

“I’m not—,” Nick started, but Seiji just shook his head in disgust.

“You must really hate me,” Seiji’s voice betrayed his anger, and his cheeks were blotching a furious red.

“I don’t,” Nick said, so startled by this statement that his previous line of conversation was thoroughly derailed. “I never hated you. Not really. Why would you think that?” And he found that he was genuinely upset to hear that Seiji  _did_  think that. Hate was too strong a word to apply to the bundle of annoyance, jealousy, and spite Nick had felt towards Seiji before. It didn’t surprise him that Seiji thought he didn’t really like him, but  _hate_  him? What Nick hated was that Seiji thought that. Seiji just let out a scornful laugh.

“You think I haven’t noticed? You’re always trying to annoy or embarrass me. It’s not even solely about fencing anymore. It’s like you see it as your life’s mission to make me uncomfortable. You must hate me a good deal to enjoy upsetting me so much.” For a moment, Nick thought Seiji might cry, but his eyes remained hard and dry.

“Oh,” Nick ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed himself now. And, truth be told, ashamed. “I don’t hate you,” he said again, shrugging up one shoulder. “I just think it’s cute when you get flustered.” He met Seiji’s eyes with an apologetic grin, trying not to blush at the simple stupidity of it, and at the fact that only now had he been able to put a finger on  _why_  he’d so enjoyed rattling Seiji.

Seiji blinked at him again, dumbfounded, and he was so still it seemed he’d forgotten to breath. Then, slowly, the angry red blotches on his cheeks faded to pink and spread to cover practically his entire face. Nick stared in amazement until the spell broke and Seiji’s face fell back into a snarl.

“You did that on purpose,” he spat venomously. “Stop it.”

“I actually didn’t,” Nick held up his hands, as if showing that he was unarmed physically could convey his honest intentions. “I swear, that one wasn’t on purpose. I’ll stop it in general, though. For real. No more teasing. Pinkie promise.” Seiji examined Nick, likely assessing his sincerity. “Really,” Nick urged. “I like getting a reaction out of you, but I can stop if it really bothers you so much. I really, really don’t hate you, I swear I don’t.” This assurance only seemed to deepen both Seiji’s blush and his scowl.

“Fine,” Seiji said, pulling his open book back to him, eyes rapidly scanning the page to find his place. “Just stop with the false advances.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Nick was relieved to be past the subject of his supposed hatred for Seiji. Nick wasn’t convinced that Seiji had it through his head that Nick didn’t hate him, and was sure Seiji still thought he at least disliked him, but he’d offered an alternate explanation and that’s all he could really do. Still, it made his current predicament all the harder.

“And leave me alone,” Seiji said distractedly, already taken in by his book. Nick didn’t move, and Seiji didn’t press the issue, so Nick was only further encouraged to stay. He pulled out some homework to pretend he was working on, all the while watching Seiji out of the corner of his eye. By the time Seiji’s flush had disappeared, Nick couldn’t keep it in any longer. He’d given Seiji time to recover. Time to compose himself back into the proper and emotionless young man the world knew Seiji Katayama to be. But Nick never could keep his mouth shut for very long.

“I was serious, you know,” Nick said, bringing Seiji wearily back to attention. “I wasn’t making a false advance. You really did catch my eye on the boardwalk. Actually, you keep catching my eye. And you did it again today. I keep trying to hit on you without realizing it’s you. That’s gotta mean something, right? Whether you like it or not—hell, whether  _I_  like it or not, I’ve got a thing for you.”

Seiji stared at him a moment, looking a little like a deer in headlights. At least he didn’t seem angry or suspicious this time. That was an improvement. Seiji put his book back down on the table, planting his right elbow down with it and resting his cheek on his hand. He looked, dare Nick think it, sweet, sitting there with his head at a slight tilt, regarding Nick with a curious expression.

“So?” Seiji asked.

“Huh?”

“Are you going to ask me out?” A small smile, soft as moths' wings, appeared on Seiji’s lips. Nick hadn’t thought that far ahead. He’d only noticed his attraction half an hour ago and he’d gotten no further than confessing that attraction to Seiji in his mind. Now, reality was surpassing imagination.

“Should I?” Nick asked, trying to gauge Seiji’s reaction. His body language was so unlike the Seiji that Nick knew that it was throwing him off. Seiji just shrugged, sweet smile still in place. “Uh, then…would you go out with me?”

“Nicholas,” Seiji said, and warning bells were already ringing in Nick’s head. “If you think I’d go out with anyone after such a shitty confession, you’re stupider than you look.” And with that, Seiji snapped shut his book and tucked it away in his bag. As he stood to leave, Nick grabbed his arm. The genial smile was gone, but he didn’t look particularly mad, either.

“Is it my confession or  _me_  that’s the problem?” Nick asked.

“Don’t be tiresome,” Seiji pulled out of Nick’s grasp and was gone from the library in the blink of an eye. But Nick grinned after him. He was never one to give up so easily. Or to back down from a challenge.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are you guys ready for this bullshit?

Nick didn’t even wait a full day before trying again. That night, before Seiji went to bed, Nick breached the barrier between their territories and dove right in.

“You’re not my type,” Nick started, “like,  _at all_. First, you’re too damn tall.”

“I’m hardly taller than you are,” Seiji said, watching Nick with a kind of exasperation reserved especially for him.

“Yeah, the taller than me part is the problem,” Nick rolled his eyes. “And you’re too clean cut. Always so put together, it drives me mad.”

“I’m sorry my ability to dress properly offends you.”

“And you’re so serious. Or mad. Those are your two emotions. I mean, you’ve got a pretty face, but your expressions completely ruin it.”

“Are you done yet?” Seiji was leaning against the wall, and Nick half expected him to examine his nails with how bored he looked.

“And you’re an asshole.”

“Am I? Something we have in common, then.”

“I like sweet people who smile a lot. The only times I’ve seen you smile have been, frankly, terrifying. You’re so far out of my type that  _Greg_  even noticed it. And he’s oblivious as hell.”

“No wonder the two of you are friends.”

“I mean, you style your hair like  _that_ ,” Nick brandished a hand at Seiji’s hair, prompting him to reach up and touch it, only to pull the hand away with a glare.

“At least I don’t have a mop on my head,” Seiji fired back.

“So there’s no reason I’d go for you out of attraction alone, because, normally, I’d never look twice at a guy like you. But, the thing is, I  _keep_  looking at you. That’s proof, right? I must like you. I  _do_  like you.” He was pretty sure, anyway. Seiji seemed a little put off balance, but regained his superior sneer soon enough.

“Nicholas, you’re really going to have to try harder if you want me to go out with you.”

“What? But I just—,”

“You succeeded in nothing but insulting me. Hardly the way to earn anyone’s affection.”

“But I like you even though you’re nothing like what I usually go for. You’re, I don’t know, special. Yeah, that’s right, you’re special.”

“Try harder.” And Seiji disappeared into the bathroom with a hearty slam of the door.

***

When Nick though on it, Seiji had been right to tell him off last night. He’d made a bad judgment call. A  _really_  bad one. But he hadn’t meant for it to go down like that. It was like, when he saw Seiji, his brain switched into combat mode and he said things in the meanest way possible, even, apparently, when he was trying to confess his damned feelings for the guy. Nick groaned, eyes flitting to Seiji, who sat three rows in front of him in history. If he’d learned Seiji’s spot earlier in the term, they could have avoided their joint presentation. But now, Nick was very aware of where Seiji was. And not just in this class, either.

He sighed loudly, back to thinking of last night’s disaster. He’d done the exact wrong thing. But, maybe, he could use that for his next move. Logic followed that if he did the  _opposite_ he’d have more luck. Complimenting Seiji would, of course, work a lot better than insulting him had. Why hadn’t he gone with that in the first place? But the problem was, he wasn’t sure what he liked about Seiji or how to go about complimenting him. Nick stared hard at the object of his affection, trying to come up with reasons for that same affection, and completely tuned out the lesson. That, as it turned out, was a bad idea.

“Nicholas Cox, what are you trying to do?” Mr. Galbraith boomed. Nick’s eyes snapped guiltily to his teacher. “Unless you’re a mind reader, you won’t be getting any of the answers from Seiji.”

“You can say that again,” Nick mumbled, only to get a stern look from his teacher. It was then that Nick realized he had a paper in front of him. It was clearly a quiz. When had that gotten there? Everyone in the class was looking at Nick now, save for Seiji, who was diligently scribbling down his answers. Answers Nick could  _almost_ see, if he squinted. Nick’s face went cold. Kings Row did not tolerate cheating. “You’ve got it wrong, Sir,” Nick floundered desperately, finally comprehending the situation. “I wasn’t trying to cheat off of Seiji, I swear.”

“Then why have your eyes been glued to him this whole time, hm?”

“Because I was, uh, admiring him?” Nick offered with a wince. Even he could tell how lame that had sounded. Nick saw that half his classmates were gawking at him in disbelief, while the other half had turned to see Seiji’s reaction. He followed suit, eyes darting to the only head still fixed on his quiz. Nick couldn’t see Seiji’s face, but his ears were even redder than Nick had ever managed to make them go before

“Oooh,” one of the boys jeered, “Someone has a crush.”

Now Nick was turning pink, too.

“All that time alone in the fencing room must have sparked a romance,” someone else snickered.

“That’s not how the fencing team works, you dipshit,” the student next to him said.

“Wait, isn’t Aiden on the fencing team?” A kid in the front row asked, turning to Nick. “Why would you like  _him,”_  he jerked a thumb at Seiji, “When you could like  _Aiden Kane?”_

“Why the hell would I like Aiden?” Nick bristled, glaring at the front row kid full force. “Seiji’s a better fencer.  _And_  he’s better looking by a long shot.”

“Is not!”

“Say that again, punk,” Nick was half way out of his seat, ready to throw down over this.

 _“Enough!”_  Mr. Galbraith boomed, and Nick fell back into his seat as all the chatter in the room ceased. “Please, everyone, return to your quizzes. Even you, Nicholas. But I’d like to talk to you after class.”

“Yessir,” Nick muttered glumly, picking up his pencil and trying to focus on the quiz. When the bell rang and all papers passed to the front, Nick collected all of his stuff and made the walk of shame to the front of the classroom where the teacher’s desk was. He snarled at the front row kid as he passed him. The kid squeaked and dashed out the door, obviously not keen on a rematch.

“Nicholas,” Mr. Galbraith sighed, “I don’t believe now that you were cheating.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Nick said, relief flooding him. If he got reported for breaking conduct like that, he could be kicked out of Kings Row. He couldn’t even fathom a life without Kings Row. “I’m sorry. Thank you.”

“It’s clear to me that your attention on Mr. Katayama today was,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “for an entirely different reason than I had assumed.” Nick fought against the blush, but it came anyway. He’d really made a fool of himself today.  _And of Seiji…_ he realized with a grimace. “In the future, however,” Mr. Galbraith continued, “I want your head in my classroom and your eyes on your paper, understood?”

“Yessir, it won’t happen again.”

“Good. And, furthermore, please refrain from starting shouting matches in the middle of quizzes.”

“That bonbon started it,” Nick griped, but agreed at a stern look from Mr. Galbraith.

“Very well, Mr. Cox, you are free to go.” And he shooed Nick out of the room. Nick stumbled into the hall and was surprised to find Seiji waiting just outside the door.

“Did you need Mr. Galbraith?” Nick asked, looking at the now closed door. “Because I’m not sure he’s taking visitors at the moment.”

“Don’t be daft. Is he going to report you?”

“What?” Nick turned his attention to Seiji with disbelief. Why would he care? “No, he knows I wasn’t trying to cheat.”

“And for inciting a fight?” Seiji pressed.

“It wasn’t even a fight,” Nick protested.

“You’d have turned it into one.”

“Well, yeah, I guess.” Nick rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed at the memory of the would have been fight. Of what it had been over. “But Galbraith just gave me a slap on the wrist. Nothing serious.”

“Violence is frowned upon here,” Seiji told him, all hoity-toity.

“What, really?” Nick widened his eyes as if he were shocked. “Yeah, no shit it’s frowned upon.”

“It’s a serious offense at Kings Row, you could have—,”

“I  _know_ ,” Nick snapped. “And you can get off your high horse. I seem to remember that you weren’t above violence in that supply room.”

“You started it.”

“You asked for it.”

“Like Micheal asked for it today?”  _Huh_ , Nick thought,  _was that his name?_

“You heard him, he said Aiden’s better than you. So, yeah,  _Micheal_  was asking for it,” Nick confirmed, then regretted it at Seiji’s reddened face, spurring the heat to return to his own face, as if blushing were contagious. Maybe it was. “I  _told_  you I liked you,” Nick accused, like this was somehow all Seiji’s fault. If he’d just  _gone out_  with Nick when he’d asked, he wouldn’t have been so distracted today.

“I don’t want you starting fights over me,” Seiji told him with all the dignity he could muster. “And when I told you to work on your confession, I did  _not_  mean I wanted you to announce it to our entire history class.”

“I know,” Nick winced, reminded again of his idiocy. “I didn’t mean to. It just slipped out.” Seiji regarded him for a moment, then seemed to accept this as a suitable answer. Nick was more surprised by that than anything else that’d happened today. Seiji started walking off then, to disappear to wherever Seiji went during lunch these days. He’d avoided the cafeteria after Nick had sat with him that once. But he turned back after only a couple of steps.

“Were you really going to punch Micheal for saying—I mean, you were just telling me how unappealing  _you_  find me. But you really think I’m more attractive than Aiden?” He asked it like it was an accusation, but his entire face burned, and his hand clutched the strap of his bag so tightly that his knuckles were an unnatural white.

“I was about to beat the shit out of Micheal for saying otherwise, wasn’t I?” Nick laughed, but then he looked at Seiji again and his stomach flipped. “I’m fucked,” he told Seiji solemnly, but didn’t bother explaining it more than that, despite Seiji’s confusion. Instead, he shrugged. “Yeah, I think you’re way more attractive than Aiden.”

“Huh,” Seiji said, then gave one curt nod and disappeared down the hall. Nick watched him until he was gone, not entirely sure if he’d made any progress today or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you weren't ready for that bullshit.


	5. Chapter 5

“Is it true you tried to fight one of my bonbons?” Aiden asked the moment Nick inadvertently came into his line of sight. Nick groaned.

“Got around that fast, did it?”

“Wait, you mean it’s all true?” Eugene asked, shouldering into the conversation.

“Depends,” Nick sighed, “knowing how rumors go, I doubt  _all_ of it’s true, but the main gist of it probably is. Now can you guys move? I’m trying to get food.” They let him push through them, but didn’t peel off, even though they both already had their lunches and should, therefore, go sit first.

“You really like Seiji, then?” Eugene persisted.

“Obviously,” Aiden rolled his eyes. “You don’t go declaring your love for someone in the middle of class because you  _don’t_ like them.”

“I didn’t declare my love,” Nick grumbled, but they hardly heard him.

“I thought you only accidentally hit on him,” Eugene laughed while Nick piled his tray high with food. “And I thought  _that_ was funny. If only I’d known what the future held.”

“Shut it,” but Nick’s heart wasn’t in the rebuke. He couldn’t help the amusement he felt over the whole thing. Much like that fateful disaster of a pick up during spring break, yesterday’s classroom confession seemed a lot funnier with some distance. “And when I hit on him the first time it was  _definitely_  an accident.”

“First time?” Aiden asked as they all fell into place at their regular table. Bobby was sitting with them, which meant that he’d heard the gossip and wanted in on it, otherwise he’d be off with Dante.

“What kind of firsts are we talking about?” Tanner asked, looking up from his sandwich with interest.

“Don’t be a perv,” Aiden smirked. “We were only talking about Nick’s abysmal attempts at flirting with Seiji. He was just about to tell us how accidentally hitting on someone once turned into—accidentally or purposefully hitting on them again, which one was it, Nick?”

“Hard to say,” Nick said with a shrug, but everyone was looking at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “Saw this guy in the library the other day,” Nick explained, skipping over all his dumbassery between the two incidents to save as much face as possible. “Thought he was real easy on the eyes and I’d go and introduce myself, you know? But then the whole thing seemed super familiar. I realized I was falling into the same trap from before. And I had this awful feeling that this guy I was interested in was secretly Seiji again. And he was. That can’t be a coincidence, so I went in for real. Skipped the introduction this time, though, and got right to the point.” He frowned. “I got scolded for it, actually.”

“So it was accidentally on purpose?” Bobby asked, eyes bright, as they always were when Seiji came up in conversation. “I can’t tell if that’s romantic or dumb.”

“Dumb,” Aiden said flatly. “And, I’ll let your public denouncement of my beauty slip, but just this once and  _only_  because being in love obviously dropped you a couple sorely needed IQ points. But imply that I’m not the most attractive person at this school again, and I  _will_  hurt you.”

“I don’t plan on making any more public declarations, and if I did, they wouldn’t involve you. So don’t worry.”

“Is that what the commotion yesterday was about? There were people saying you punched someone for calling Seiji ugly, and others had it in their mind that Mr. Galbraith made you read a love note you’d been trying to pass. I thought the former more likely.” Kally mused, though he looked at Nick expectantly, waiting for him to set the rumors straight. Nick had found Kally to be less of a gossip and more of an information collector. Kally liked having all the facts, and he liked having the whole of the story. And he wouldn’t rest until he got it. So Nick dove into his first retelling of yesterday’s events with a bashful grin and a sense of humor about it.

That was, until he found Seiji’s eyes across the cafeteria, his face sour and flushed. Nick realized that he’d fucked up.

***

“I wasn’t trying to embarrass you,” Nick hissed, grabbing Seiji’s arm before he could exit the locker room for practice. “I really wasn’t this time.”

“You seem to say that a lot,” Seiji said evenly, trying to shake off Nick’s grip. “And yet, we always end up at the next apology.” Seiji cocked his head, thinking. “Though, come to think of it, I don’t believe you’ve actually apologized.”

“Right,” Nick winced. “I’m sorry. Super sorry. But I swear I just forgot that telling what I did in class to the guys would embarrass  _you_. I mean,  _I_  was the one being an idiot, it’s me who should be embarrassed about it. Not you.” He almost pointed out that Seiji shouldn’t have been in the cafeteria anyway, and how if he’d just kept to his disappearing act, they wouldn’t be fighting now. He did himself a favor and swallowed the accusation.

“Nothing seems to embarrass you in the slightest,” Seiji seemed almost angry about it. Nick laughed.

“Nah, that’s untrue. But I’ve said and done so much dumb shit that I’ve just got to laugh about it now. You wouldn’t get that, you know, since you’re perfect.” To Nick’s surprise, this made Seiji blush only slightly less than he had in the cafeteria when he’d realized what Nick was telling his table about. He felt guilty, at least, over how much he enjoyed the blush. “I didn’t think before I spoke today—or yesterday, and I’m sorry for both. Like I said, I keep forgetting that my—,” Nick floundered for a word.  _Crush?_  No.  _Thing?_  No.  _Infatuation?_  Definitely no. Nothing sounded right, so he settled, “attraction to you is a two way deal, even if the actual, uh, attraction is one sided.” Nick was embarrassed to admit it, but he shrugged it off in the easy way that, apparently, pissed Seiji off. Seiji pursed his lips, looking hard at Nick for a long moment.

“Who said the attraction was one sided?” He finally said. Like everything else Seiji said, it sounded hard and clipped. Like another challenge. Nick stared at Seiji, wide eyed.

“Then go out with me,” Nick said, a little impatient, a little over-eager. But Seiji only shook his head.

“I have standards. And you have yet to meet them.” And he pulled away from Nick’s slackened grip, gone before Nick’s smile had even finished settling on his face. Seiji had practically guaranteed that Nick would get what he wanted. Eventually. He just had to, as Seiji had said, try harder

***

Nick fell asleep plotting. It wasn’t really a surprise that he’d dozed off at the small desk in his room; he wasn’t made of steel like Seiji. He was soft and tired and the early mornings, rigorous practices, and school work all piled up against him. He took an average of three accidental naps a week. This one, though, he’d live to regret.

“You realize, don’t you,” Seiji’s voice drifted into Nick’s dreams and pulled him back to reality, “that this is pathetic?” Nick groggily sat up, eyes trying to focus on Seiji. He was holding… _oh god_ , he was holding—

“Hey,” Nick ripped the paper out of Seiji’s hand. “Who gave you permission to read that?” Maybe it was the sleepy haze still over his brain, but Nick felt a blush take up residence on his face. Seiji seemed amused, and Nick swore there was a hint of a smile on his face. That smile sparked the memory of another smile, from another time.

_Seiji, head perched and tilting gently on an open palm, eyes alight and lips curved in a sweet smile, soft light filtering across his face through the library’s large and impressive windows._

“Hey,” Nick said again, but the crumpled paper in his hand had been momentarily forgotten. “You—right now, and in the library—you like teasing me, too.” Seiji smirked, but it just made Nick grin, broad and full. “You can’t tell me not to tease you now, or you’d be a hypocrite.” This made Seiji’s face fall into a familiar, calculating visage.

“I’m not nearly as relentless as you are,” Seiji said tightly, though Nick caught him shifting his weight, like a fencer about to lunge. It was a cute quirk, and Nick determined he’d have to watch out for it in the future. “It’s not the same thing at all.”

“Hypocrite,” Nick flashed Seiji his best grin, which made Seiji harrumph.

“Your list is abysmal,” Seiji indiscreetly but effectively redirected Nick’s attention to the notes he’d fallen asleep writing.

“I mean, yeah,” Nick had to admit that it wasn’t quality literature.

“Is this really the best you can do?”

“No,” Nick snapped, to Seiji’s obvious disbelief. “I fell asleep before I finished.”

“With the trajectory it was on, that’s probably for the best.”

“That’s unfair,” Nick said, but Seiji smoothed out a tattered remnant of paper, and Nick frowned, only now noticing the missing part of his own sheet.

“The first item on your list,” Seiji said, bringing the slip up to eye level with a flourish, “is ‘he’s got all the necessary parts of a face and they come together in a good way,’” Seiji raised an eyebrow at Nick, daring him to defend  _that_. Nick did.

“It’s true,” he scowled.

“It’s pathetic. You basically said that I’ve  _got a face._ If you were just going to list out the things you like about me physically, couldn’t you have at least phrased them in a better way?”

“What? Want me to tell you I think you’re pretty?” Nick noticed how Seiji tensed, and his annoyance sloughed to sly delight. “Because you are. Really fucking pretty. I’ll admit it, I should have just put that down,” he watched intently as the soft pink washed over Seiji’s fine features. Nick wasn’t an artist, but he was sure if he was, he’d want to immortalize this particular sight in watercolors on a giant canvas. Seiji was so classically beautiful, it really did hurt. Just like his incredible skill in fencing hurt. And his personality really did grow on you.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Seiji burst, then seemed to regret it, frowning slightly at his own words. It startled Nick a bit, that the way he watched Seiji could have an effect on him as surely as his words and winks did. It had never occurred to him to think he had that much sway. He wanted so badly to have even more.

Nick stood, chair legs scraping against wood floor as he pushed himself out of the seat. Seiji must have seen the determination—the  _decision—_ in his eyes, because his posture shifted at once, ready for an altercation.

“I want to date you,” Nick said, catching Seiji off guard. “It’s insane how bad I want to date you. Like you can’t even imagine.” Seiji looked for all the world taken aback, despite that Nick had offered the same sentiment before. On several occasions. “I thought I’d try a grand confession with all the reasons I like you eloquently stated. Which is why I was trying to brainstorm,” Nick felt heat prickle across the back of his neck, thinking of his lackluster list. “But obviously I’m shit at eloquence. And not great at brainstorming, either.” Nick looked Seiji squarely in the eye. “So I’m asking you, what do I need to do to get you to say yes to a date? What do you suggest I do to meet your standards?”

“I—,” Seiji seemed unable to come up with a single thing to say. Lost for words. Another thing Nick had never thought he’d be able to render Seiji. “It’s actually pretty simple,” Seiji finally said. “You’re just too asinine to have thought of it.”

“What?”

“Just tell me,” Seiji said, cheeks reddening again, though his eyes didn’t waver from Nick’s. “Tell me that you like me, with no conditions or modifiers. And ask me out.”

“Really?” Nick couldn’t believe it would be that easy. “And you’ll say yes this time?”

“Try me.”

“Okay,” Nick nodded, took a breath. This was it. Hopefully. “Seiji Katayama, I like you. An outrageous amount. Would you go on a date with me?” Then, for good measure, “uh, please?”

“Yes,” and Seiji smiled. Not a smirk, or a mockingly sweet simper, but an honest and simple smile. Nick could get used to that.


	6. Chapter 6

“So, how are we gonna play this?” Nick asked as he and Seiji walked to the cafeteria together the next morning.

“Be clearer in your meaning, please,” Seiji said it in such an exasperated way that it made Nick laugh. As if he were an english teacher hurtling towards a midlife crisis, forced to stay up late nights and read terrible essays. Like he’d just circled an  _especially_  terrible thesis statement with his red felt-tipped pen and written with all the hollow irritation he had  _be clearer in your meaning, please._  Seiji looked at him strangely for his laughter, but Nick didn’t know how to explain it in a way that would make Seiji understand why it was so funny.

“Are we going to sit together?” Nick clarified once his laughter had subsided. “And if we do, are you going to come sit with me and the guys or are we going to eat in your corner or wherever you’ve been hiding lately? Or are we going to keep to our normal routines? This sets the tone for what kind of couple we’re going to be, so it’s really important,” Nick teased, but Seiji seemed to consider it, which made Nick slightly nervous.

“We spend almost the entire day together,” Seiji said, serious. “I have two classes apart from you, and I wake up half an hour earlier, but other than that, our schedules rarely diverge. There’s absolutely no reason why we should sit together at lunch, too.”

Nick tried not to let his disappointment show, or the way his heart sank at the simple logic. “Right,” he said with a forced smile and a shrug.

“That being said,” Seiji continued, ignoring Nick. “I’ll sit with you. I’m sure there’d be a revolt if you left the fencing table.” It took a single second for the words to sink in, and Nick beamed when they did. He felt like grabbing Seiji in a bear hug, then decided that would be a good way to get smacked. Then he did it anyway. Seiji sputtered, arms pinned to his sides as Nick hugged him happily. When Nick released him, he was surprised that Seiji didn’t smack him right away. He didn’t even seem pissed at all, actually. Ruffled, and off balance, and pink, but not altogether displeased.

“I think we’re gonna be a gross couple,” Nick grinned as they breezed through the food line. “Sorry.” But he wasn’t. “It’s just who I am as a person. Greg says I’m overly affectionate and easily excited, I can’t help it.”

“Greg,” Seiji started, curious but with an edge. Nick stopped him before he could even finish the question.

“Nope,” Nick laughed. “Not my type. Also, straight. But definitely not my type.” Seiji nodded, but he still frowned the slightest bit. Nick didn’t have time to do further damage control—or, as the case may be, troubleshooting for what damage needed to be controlled before they made it to the fencing table, where Harvard and Aiden already sat.

“Morning,” Harvard smiled broadly at them both. Aiden didn’t say anything, but Nick could tell he was watching them closely, analyzing their interactions. Nick wondered if he’d spotted the bear hug earlier. As the rest of the guys filtered in, there were a couple strange looks or double takes at Seiji’s presence. Kally was the only one who seemed unfazed, offering Seiji a warm greeting.

“I’m just going to say what we’re all thinking,” Tanner said, and Kally pursed his lips like a worried mother trying to let her dumb as shit kid be independent but struggling to keep her mouth shut. Nick had no doubts about what Tanner was planning to say. “That shit you pulled actually worked? You  _got_  Seiji?” Now Tanner rounded on Seiji. “I mean, I can’t believe you actually fell for that. How in the fuck did his dumb ass manage to win you over? No offense, Nick.” Nick shrugged, it was a fair question, after all.

Seiji’s eyes narrowed and Nick was sure he was about to say  _something_  that someone was bound to regret. Probably not Seiji, but someone, nonetheless. So Nick cut in before that could happen. “What can I say? I’m irresistible and, not to brag, but I’m  _great_  at flirting. Seiji never had a chance.” This got a laugh around the table, and Nick glanced at Seiji nervously, checking to see if that comment had counted as offensive. Seiji didn’t seem to have even heard him, he was too busy glaring at Tanner. Nick laughed, bumping his shoulder against Seiji, breaking his concentration.

Conversation moved on, and breakfast passed as any other breakfast at Kings Row had, but it was so much better. Everything seemed better with Seiji so close. 

***

Nick found that neither he nor Seiji really had the time for dating. Between all the work they had to do and Seiji’s insistence on obeying curfew, they’d only managed a handful of dates in two months of dating. When there was time to go out, they were often too tired to bother leaving campus. This might have worried Nick—that he could count the number of dates he’d gone on with his boyfriend on one hand, but he and Seiji really did spend all their time together, by design if not by intention, which suited them both well. 

Nick was glad for their status as roommates, and was even more glad that Coach Williams hadn’t listened to their complaints at the beginning of the year, forcing them to  _stay_ roommates whether they liked it or not. They hadn’t, at first, that was for sure. But now it provided them ample opportunity to be together without having to actually go out and do things. He liked their dorm-room dates where they’d pop popcorn only Nick would eat and half pay attention to movies on the computer. And, more than that, he liked the things that came with living together that weren’t necessarily date-like at all. Like how he could be sitting on his bed and hear Seiji’s breathing as he did his own thing on the other side of the room, a happy reminder that he was there. The way Seiji would straighten his tie or smooth his lapel before class. And all their comfortable routines that made everything run much more smoothly than it ever used to.

Nick was sure he’d stumbled into the perfect situation. Date your roommate and you have guaranteed alone time together everyday plus, you don’t have to put on real pants or leave the comfort of your own might-as-well-be home to be with him.

Nick had to remind himself that such perfect circumstances were only possible because of Coach Williams and that he should be grateful to her for that, even if he was too sore and tired from the extra practicing she’d kept him late to do tonight to think well of her in any other way. She’d been like some sort of devil with an épée instead of a pitchfork. Nick grimaced, thinking of all the work he still had to do before bed.

“I’ve got to read the first act of  _King Lear_  by tomorrow,” Nick complained the moment he’d opened the door to his room. Seiji looked up at him from his bed. It was still early evening on a Sunday, so Seiji wasn’t  _in_  bed yet. He sat upright against the wall, legs stretching in front of him, in his sports uniform, jacket zipped all the way up, like a nerd.

“We were assigned the reading last Monday,” Seiji said, “haven’t you started it at all?”

“Nope. Hey, but you read it, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Seiji said with a hint of suspicion.

“Want to tell me what happened?” Nick implored.

“Not at all. It’s your responsibility to do your own homework. And even if I  _did_  tell you, which I won’t, it wouldn’t be of much help. You have to read it yourself to annotate it for the essay we’ll have to write on one of the predominant themes of the play at the end of this unit.” He really could be a disappointed english teacher, if fencing didn’t work out. Nick sighed, pulling his copy of  _King Lear_  from his bag, and a bright pink highlighter too, then tossed them at Seiji, who batted them out of the air with a huff of irritation. “Throwing things at me isn’t the way to ask if you can come read on my bed.”

“You’ll let me anyway,” Nick grinned, and Seiji scoffed.

“Go take a shower,” he said. “I won’t let you near me  _or_  my bed until you’re clean.”

Nick grinned, “Joke’s on you. I was gonna take a shower no matter what.”

“Glad to hear it,” Seiji had already turned back to his notes for an upcoming science assignment.

Nick came out of the bathroom squeaky clean to find Seiji hadn’t moved an inch in the twenty minutes he’d been gone. Nick looked down at Seiji’s meticulous notes as he came around to the head of the bed. He was about to poke fun at them, but got distracted by the view down Seiji’s high zipped collar instead. He couldn’t see much, just neck and, as Seiji shifted, a collar bone, bare of Seiji’s usual choice in tight necked shirt.

“Are you wearing anything under that?” Nick asked, and Seiji snapped his head up, confused but knowing to be on guard.

“What?” Seiji asked, as though Nick had just asked something very stupid.

“Your jacket,” Nick smiled, almost predatory. “It’s zipped up so securely. All I’m saying is it would be easy to hide it, if you weren’t wearing a shirt.”

“Stop being a nitwit,” Seiji dismissed, but he was blushing. “Why would I wear my jacket without a shirt? I’d have to wash it.”

“Can I unzip it, then?” Nick asked, and Seiji’s hand flew to the zipper protectively.

“No,” he said, flaming red. Nick advanced, climbing on to the bed and crawling towards Seiji, mostly to see him retreat just a bit further into the wall.

“I won’t,” Nick assured him, stopping in his pursuit, though even as he switched to sitting from crawling, his body was still angled towards Seiji, as if pulled in by his gravity. Seiji relaxed, but kept his hand guarding the front of his jacket. Nick grinned. “Don’t need to unzip it, anyway, to know there’s nothing under it.”

“I don’t know where you even got that idea, but you’re wrong.”

“Your reaction tells me I’m not,” Nick laughed, leaning forward even more until he was fully in Seiji’s space. He knew he shouldn’t, but he loved the way Seiji reacted to his ceaseless teasing. He had, at least, stopped intentionally flustering Seiji in public. But it was one of his favorite things to do, when they were alone. And Seiji didn’t do much to stop him lately.

“Fine,” Seiji snapped, incensed at being called a liar. “Unzip it if you must.”

“Really?” Nick was surprised when Seiji actually brought his hand away from the zipper. He wondered why Seiji didn’t just unzip the jacket himself, but he wasn’t about to voice the question. It was entirely possible that Seiji had recognized a challenge and was single minded in his rise to it, never realizing there was another option.

Nick reached tentatively for Seiji, waiting for him to bat his hand away, as he had the book and the highlighter half an hour before. But he didn’t, and soon Nick had the small zipper between his fingers. He pulled it down carefully, and it felt like a very sensual, intimate thing to him. The way Seiji’s breath hitched suggested he felt it too. Nick saw the start of Seiji’s shirt, low beneath his collarbones, but he didn’t stop unzipping until the jacket was entirely open.

“See?” Seiji said, and Nick half expected him to say  _I told you so._  But he didn’t.

“That’s too bad,” Nick shrugged. “It would have been sexy if you weren’t wearing this,” he tugged at Seiji’s black shirt. Seiji blushed furiously. “But this is nice too,” Nick decided, looking at the soft, low cut shirt with the words  _DON’T MAKE ME OPEN THIS_ fanning over a can labeled  _WHOOP-ASS_.

“It’s laundry day,” Seiji said, crossing his arms over the shirt.

“I know,” and Nick realized that, yeah, he actually did know that. He knew a great deal about Seiji and his schedule thanks to the combination of living with him and caring about him. “But why in fuck do you have this shirt to begin with?”

“My mother thought it was funny,” Seiji said with distaste. “And she makes sure I don’t leave home without it.”

“That’s so cute,” Nick said, a genuine smile growing as he thought of Seiji’s mom fussing over him. He was too charmed, even, to be envious. “But bringing up your mom has totally killed my mood.”

“Good,” Seiji said, stern and superior. “You’re not supposed to be in the mood, anyway. You’ve got a play to read.”

“Ugh,” Nick moaned, finally rocking back on his heels and out of Seiji’s personal space. Not for long though. He collected his book and highlighter, then nudged Seiji until he scooted away from the wall with exasperation, making room for Nick to insert himself behind Seiji, who leaned back against him the moment he was settled in. Not so exasperated, after all.

Still, as Nick flipped open his book, he thought of Seiji allowing him, in a way, to undress him. He’d thought he might kiss Seiji. It was probably for the best that he hadn’t wasted their first kiss there, with Seiji embarrassed and Nick obviously in a mood to tease him. Seiji would probably have counted the kiss as even more teasing. But even knowing that, Nick had wanted to kiss him in that moment with everything he had.  _Later,_  he told himself,  _there will be a better time for kissing. Later._ And with that, Nick cracked open the worn book.

 _King Lear_  wasn’t really Nick’s style—nothing he had to read for school ever was. But reading with Seiji’s back pressed against him made the task less terrible. Nick was on scene three when Seiji closed his text book and journal, setting them both aside with his pens, of which he had three for color coding.

“You done?” Nick asked, which was entirely unnecessary because, obviously, Seiji was.

“Yes,” Seiji said. Nick expected to be kicked out so Seiji could sleep. But the eviction notice never came, instead, Seiji slumped further against Nick, letting his head fall back against Nick’s shoulder. Nick almost forgot to breathe in his determination not to disrupt this arrangement. He carefully continued with his reading, but Seiji’s head effectively rendered Nick’s right hand unusable, so he had a convenient excuse to ditch the annotating.

“I’m bored,” Seiji said, a couple pages later, but, again, he surprised Nick by staying as he was rather than shooing Nick away.

“Your phone?” Nick suggested earnestly, hoping Seiji could browse his phone without moving away.

“It’s in my bag,” Seiji sighed.

“Don’t want to move?” Nick teased, then winced, hoping Seiji wouldn’t get annoyed and move out of spite, but Seiji just shook his head slightly against Nick.

“No. Too comfy.” Seiji sounded almost sleepy. Relaxed and content. And adorable. Nick thought he might explode.

“Take this,” Nick said, shoving his book into Seiji’s hands.

“I’m not doing your homework for you,” Seiji told him flatly, holding  _King Lear_  like the beaten paperback had personally offended him.

“I know,” Nick said, wrestling his phone out of his back pocket, then handing it off to Seiji in exchange for the book. “There, you can use that.”

“Passcode?” Seiji asked, after a moment of amused silence. Nick grimaced.

“You can’t make fun of me for it, okay?”

“What is it?” Seiji asked, and Nick could tell Seiji was eager to make fun of him for it.

“734540,” Nick mumbled, and Seiji  _hmphed_  in disappointment, unable to detect why that code was worthy of mocking. Nick couldn’t quite redirect his attention to  _King Lear_ , a little curious to see how Seiji would use his phone. He wasn’t shy; he went right for the photo album. Nick laughed.

“You won’t find anything fun in there,” Nick warned, “it’s mostly screenshots of memes.”

“Then I should be plenty entertained,” Seiji said, and Nick had to give that to him.

“Smart,” he said, “go through my personal, hand-picked selection of memes rather than brave social media platforms yourself.”

“Hm,” Seiji agreed, and Nick finally  _did_  turn his eyes back on old Lear, highlighter completely forgotten as he wrapped his right arm around Seiji’s waist. It wasn’t until scene five that Nick became aware of Seiji’s scrolling again. Mainly because he wasn’t scrolling anymore. He’d stopped on a picture Nick knew well. It had been his lock screen for roughly three months.

“Delete that,” he said, and Seiji jolted in alarm, as if caught doing something he shouldn’t be.

“Why? It seems like a happy memory.” The picture was one of Nick, smiling happily, as a cute boy with blonde curls and a button nose stood on tip toes to kiss him on the cheek. They’d gone to the zoo and Nick had wanted a picture with the polar bears, but as Greg had snapped the picture with his own date hanging off his arm, Henry had surprised Nick with the peck. He’d loved that picture. But seeing it now, he was filled with an odd disconnect. He and Henry hadn’t lasted long.

“It is, I guess, but I don’t need that picture.” But Seiji just swiped back to the photo gallery and continued going through it. Nick felt a sense of unease and only pretended to go back to reading, even flipping a page, but his eyes never left Seiji’s hand all the while. His worry grew when Seiji pulled up a picture of him and another ex. He and Amber, a sweet looking girl with soft brown hair and eyes that had melted Nick’s heart, bundled up for a school field trip during a particularly cold January. They were waiting for the busses together, hand in hand. The shot had been featured in their yearbook, though they’d broken up long before the books even printed.

“You really do have a type,” Seiji said and Nick remembered Seiji’s face when he’d said Greg wasn’t included in that type. A panicked sort of dread hit Nick and he wrapped his arm tighter around Seiji.

“I guess,” Nick said, though he’d told Seiji from the beginning that he fell outside Nick’s typical preferences by a long shot. He wanted to gloss over it now, though. Seiji hadn’t seemed to care at all, but Nick wondered now if he’d just been good at hiding it. He thought of their talk about Jesse for the first time in ages, and his panic grew. He’d realized then that Seiji needed convincing that he was liked—hell, that he wasn’t hated. Nick cursed himself for not addressing this sooner.

“I’m nothing like them,” Seiji said quietly, and Nick was sure this was the first time he’d ever known Seiji to be truly self-conscious in any meaningful way.

“Look,” Nick said, a little frantic. “It doesn’t matter what my type was because I like  _you._ It doesn’t matter that you aren’t like them at all. You’re just special, okay? Because you know what else Amber and Henry and Giovani had in common, other than sweet smiles and cute faces? They all became nothing but old pictures in my phone I haven’t looked at in so long I’d forgotten them. But you’re always on my mind, Seiji. Do you understand? You’re not my type at all, you’re so much better.” Seiji still seemed unconvinced, and Nick sighed. “Turn off my phone,” he said, and could feel that Seiji had taken it as an insult, a rescinding of permission to look through Nick’s phone, by the way his body stiffened.

“It’s past time I went to bed, anyway,” Seiji said as he turned off Nick’s phone and dropped it on the bed like a hot coal. He tried to pull away from Nick, but he held Seiji tight, not letting him get far. He dropped  _King Lear_  and picked up his phone, shoving it back into Seiji’s unwilling hands.

“Stop being so fucking difficult,” Nick bit off a little harsher than he’d really meant. Seiji, apparently, didn’t appreciate his tone, because Nick got elbowed in the stomach for it. But Seiji did, at least, stop fighting against Nick’s hold. “Unlock my phone.”

“You just told me to turn it off,” Seiji protested.

“Yeah, dumbass, so you could unlock it.”

“I don’t remember the pass.”

“Pay attention,” Nick said, left hand coming to tap at the numbers displayed on his phone, still held reluctantly in Seiji’s hand. “S,” Nick said, pressing the 7, “E,” he tapped the 3, “I,” now the 4, “J,” his face was burning red as his finger keyed in the 5, “I,” the 4, again. Lastly, he pressed the 0 and his phone opened at once, pass screen fading to the bright picture of Amber and him in the snow. He made another stab at the screen.

_This photo will be deleted from Photo Stream on all your devices._

_Delete Photo_

_Cancel_

Nick pressed  _Delete Photo_  without even a tinge of regret. Seiji seemed stunned, staring at the phone for several long seconds. Nick was uncomfortably warm now, his heart beating too fast to be normal.

“Is the zero at the end for you?” Seiji asked, quietly, and Nick felt his skin sear even hotter.

“Shut up,” but there wasn’t much bite to this retort. “It needed six characters. And you can’t call me  _Zero_  anymore, I’ve said so a million times.”

“I know,” Seiji leaned back into Nick as completely as he had before, and Nick could just make out the pleased, and surprised smile on Seiji’s face, made all the better by the faint pinkness of his cheeks. “When you said we’d be a gross couple, you really weren’t lying.”

“I don’t lie,” Nick laughed, relieved to have adequately proven his affection to Seiji.

“How long has that been your code for?” Seiji asked, and Nick groaned. He’d thought Seiji would just let that slide by without further prodding. He’d been wrong.

“I don’t know,” Nick muttered. “Awhile.”

“Try again.”

“Too long.”

“Nicholas.”

“Three days after you agreed to date me. But I’d thought about it before then.”

“Good,” Seiji laughed. Actually laughed. Then he pulled Nick’s arm tighter around himself, since it had loosened once Seiji had stopped trying to escape. Nick laughed too, and embarrassment turned once again to a humorous badge of honor.

“Disgusting, right? I’m so fucking—what’s the word? Infatuated! I’m so fucking infatuated with you it’s gross.”

“I’m almost tempted to label you as a romantic soul.”

“Why only almost?” Nick was curious.

“When you first hit on me, you tried to take it back,” Seiji reminded him.

“I was surprised!”

“You first confessed to me as a spur of the moment decision after only just discovering you had something worth confessing.  _And_  you told me as much.”

“Shit, you’re right, that’s incriminating.”

“And your list was terrible.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Nick laughed, but was hit again with a wave of unease. “Hey, you know I like you as a person, right?”

“As opposed to?”

“A pretty face and a nice ass,” Nick said bluntly, causing Seiji’s ears to turn pink again. “I know my list was shallow as all hell, but I swear that even back then I had better reasons to like you than I’d put down.”

“I’m not offended that you were first interested in me because of physical attraction,” Seiji said hurriedly, too quickly, in fact, for the sentiment to be anything but a mantra Seiji had told himself many times. Nick was almost amused that Seiji was both self conscious because he didn’t resemble Nick’s type  _and_  worried that Nick only liked him because of his looks. Seiji really did have issues seeing what he meant to other people. He remembered realizing that once before and having the strange impulse to prove Seiji wrong. He hadn’t thought he was the right person to do so, but now he knew that he was.

“Well, sure, your unfair beauty kept snatching my attention, but that’s not the reason I got feelings for you.” Nick said carefully, having spent a lot of time puzzling through his attraction to find the root of it all. “It was probably your determination and passion when you fenced that got me, at first. The reason I kept looking at you and seeing someone I liked.”

“Funny,” breathed Seiji. “That’s how you caught my attention, too.”

“Yeah. It’s like fencing isn’t something you do—,”

“It’s who you are,” Seiji finished. “The others on the team, while it’s clear how much fencing means to them, if fencing was taken from any of them they’d get over it. It would hurt, but they’d be fine, eventually. But you’re like me. It would break you, if you couldn’t fence. I like that. The desperation.”

“Glad my desperation is an appealing feature,” Nick said, but he knew what Seiji was talking about, and he knew Seiji understood that he did without him having to say it. Nick couldn’t resist any longer, he kissed Seiji’s neck, and while Seiji was startled by it, as evidenced by the way his body jerked as Nick’s lips made contact with skin, he turned his head. Nick’s entire body tingled with anticipation as he craned his neck to kiss Seiji softly on the lips.

 _This_  was a kiss worthy of being their first. Genuine and sweet, soft and sincere, more about emotions and confirmations than hormones and desire. Nick was glad that he’d saved it. Because this kiss was everything he and Seiji needed it to be.

But when their lips parted, Nick knew he couldn’t stop there. Seiji either read it in Nick’s eyes or felt the same thing himself, because he twisted his entire body around to face Nick. Nick had Seiji in his arms a fraction of a second later. Seiji didn’t kiss Nick, just danced his fingers along his shoulders, seeming nervous and insecure, despite his boldness moments before when he’d turned for what could only have been the purpose of a kiss. Nick could see it would take more time, more convincing, more reassurances to convince Seiji fully of Nick’s feelings, but he was sure they’d get there. In the meantime, Nick was more than happy to take charge, pulling Seiji’s face to his and kissing him with every bit of passion and desperation he displayed while fencing. Seiji seemed to like it just as much in this context. Nick kissed Seiji until the other boy pulled away with swollen lips and panting breath. And, then, he kissed him some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, I realize that I make Seiji blush too much. Am I going to stop? No. Can you make me stop? Also no.


	7. Chapter 7

Nick held Seiji’s hand as they strolled down the boardwalk. Nick scowled at every seagull they passed, but today they’d be getting no snacks from him. He and Seiji had just eaten an early dinner, so no purchase of egg salad sandwiches would be necessary. It had been Seiji that’d asked to come here, of course. Nick wasn’t particularly fond of boardwalks, but it was calmer than it had been last time he’d visited. The tourists must have better things to do during this June weekend than walk the board. Nick was grateful for that, and for the cool air of the advancing evening. When all of these things were taken together, Nick was almost tempted to think this a good date.

“You really like the ocean, huh?” Nick asked as Seiji tugged him over to the railing.

“I do,” Seiji said, leaning over the wooden guardrail, forcing Nick to do the same since Seiji didn’t release his hand.

“I like playing in it better than I like looking at,” Nick said. “We should go to the beach sometime.”

“I don’t like being  _in_  the ocean. Or near sand.”

“I figured as much,” Nick laughed, squeezing Seiji’s hand to communicate this comment wasn’t meant as a barb.

“I could be persuaded to go to the beach anyway.”

“Yeah, I knew that too.” They watched over the sea and listened to its soft roar and Nick felt a strange sort of peace at the whole situation. “You know, I like looking at the ocean more than I thought I did.”

“You’ll take that back in five minutes,” Seiji predicted with a squeeze to Nick’s hand. “You’re too restless.”

“You underestimate my ability to zone out with a nice daydream,” Nick laughed quietly. “And besides, I could totally stand here an hour with you if that’s what you wanted to do.”

Seiji didn’t respond, he just smiled and turned his eyes back to the sea. Nick wondered if Seiji might let him kiss him. A few straggling tourists were slowly draining away as the night settled in. It was possible he’d be allowed a small kiss here. Before he could make a judgment on the idea, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it. It buzzed again. Guiltily, he slipped the phone out and saw two texts from Greg. The first was a picture of Nick and Seiji, standing bent over the rail, fingers intertwined. Seiji’s head was turned towards Nick just enough to see the affection worn on his face, while Nick stared straight on into the ocean. The second text was this:

_I thought prissy roommates weren’t your type :P_

Nick laughed. Greg had been prowling for girls, apparently, and had spotted them instead. Nick shot back a quick  _me either… we were both REALLY wrong about that,_ before he noticed Seiji’s attention on the phone. Nick grinned, clicking the picture to enlarge it, then dowloaded it to his photo gallery.

“What do you think?” He asked, maneuvering to his photos and locating the newest one. His finger hovered over a command. “Can I make it my lock screen?”

“No,” Seiji told him bluntly, and Nick felt slightly stung. “But you can make it your home screen, if you must.”

“Deal,” Nick thumbed the button and it was done.

“Nick?”

“Yeah?”

“Promise me you won’t delete that picture if we break up.”

“We won’t,” Nick said at once, alarmed by the very idea of it.

“But if we  _do,_ ” Seiji insisted.

“Stop being weird. It won’t happen.” Nick thought that the conversation was over when Seiji took Nick’s hand in both of his, examining it like he was a palm reader or something. But Seiji wasn’t about to let this go. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on Nick’s hand, and a faint blush creeped into his cheeks, disguised as chill from the night air. When he spoke, it was as quiet and insecure as Nick had heard it only once before.

“I know it’s selfish,” Seiji whispered, “but I don’t want to be like the others. I don’t want you to just—,” his voice wavered the tiniest bit, “—just delete every good moment we had because you don’t need them anymore. Even if we break up, I want you to remember me.” He finally abandoned his examination of Nick’s hand in favor of meeting his eyes. “Don’t delete it.”  _Don’t delete me,_  he didn’t say. Nick slowly leaned in and kissed Seiji, whisper soft, before withdrawing.

“I won’t,” he promised. “I won’t ever delete it because I’ll always need it. And I’ll always need you, too.”

“You don’t know that,” Seiji said again, but Nick could tell he was ready to believe him now. Nick took Seiji’s hand once more.

“I do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at the end of another fic and I've just gotta say: thank you all, as always, for reading and commenting such nice things! Until next time, then <3

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is dedicated to my dear friend Sage. He has no fucking clue what Fence is but he has the misfortune of sitting with me on campus between classes while I write fanfiction instead of doing homework. So why, you ask, is this fic for him? Because he helped it come to be what it is in a number of ways. 1. He convinced me to have the setting for the first scene be the boardwalk 2. the reason he insisted on this was so that they could get attacked by seagulls 3. he decided that the pilfered sandwich should be of the egg salad variety so that, and i quote, 'it isn't too sad that it got stolen' 4. he google searched pictures of seagulls for me so i didn't make a fool of myself and describe them wrong. and he STILL has that window open,a week later. (fun fact: seagulls are the official bird of my state) 5. he named Greg, although he wanted to change it to Grege when I made a typo. So Sage, this one's for you, you funky little moss man


End file.
